


Give a Little Time to Me

by beforeyouspeak



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/F, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-28
Updated: 2014-01-28
Packaged: 2018-01-10 09:25:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,462
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1157985
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/beforeyouspeak/pseuds/beforeyouspeak
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A short view of a life well lived. Hermione/Andromeda</p>
            </blockquote>





	Give a Little Time to Me

**Author's Note:**

> This is quite a bit different from what I usually write. I am rarely so brief and usually rely far more on dialogue.
> 
> This came about as I was emotionally processing the end of Obsession by Madame Cissy. So if you haven't quite finished it, I would advise you to do so. While this piece is only tangentially related, I would never wish to spoil that tremendous piece of writing for anyone.
> 
> So Madame Cissy, this is for you in hopes that you too will have all of the things you want in life.

The blowing dark curls and mischievous dark eyes should have reminded Hermione of distant agony.

And in days and years gone by perhaps they would have, but not now. She was approaching 30 years of age. The scars on her arm were faded. She didn’t bother to try to conceal them. They had become a part of her. A token of her survival of the madness that was Bellatrix Lestrange. After nearly a decade, first years no longer lingered on the skin of her forearm on their first day of transfiguration class. Her acts during the war caused her to be extremely well known. The fame and money did little to compensate for her grief. She’d lost so much. Her family, her friends, and her innocence were all swept away in a great battle.

She couldn’t have known then that she would have good memories of that year. That out of the rubble and stench of death that she would find the things in life she held most dear. Crouching beside her fallen friends in a teary prayer, her love had found her. The older witch lowered herself slowly beside her saying nothing. After long tenuous moments their fingers intertwined. For Hermione from that moment there could be no other path. Andromeda’s warmth and generous smile filled every crack in her damaged soul. With the death of her parents and awkwardness of being near the Weasleys after refusing Ron again, it had seemed most logical that she move in to help with Teddy. At times she wondered if she was there to save him or if he were there to save her. His innocence, intelligence and love drove her to get out of bed on the days that grief tore at her very soul. She wasn’t his mother, but when he called her “my ‘Mione” she knew there was no greater love. Being a parental figure was reward beyond even her incredible imagination.

The day Teddy turned 5 a letter from Hogwarts yet again changed the course of their lives. The headmistress was finally ready to relinquish her teaching position and fully embrace her role as administrator. She badly needed a competent transfigurations professor and wished to offer the job to her protege. The omnipotent witch, a trait that seemed to be requisite for the position as head of school, included an offer for Hermione’s family to come with her during the school year. She put off replying, not certain of how to begin the conversation with her lover. As was often the case, Andromeda both noticed she was attempting to hide something and got the information out of her within hours. A few weeks later the three of them were stepping out of green flames into a small cottage that would be their home 9 months of the year. Within the walls of the small domicile they thrived.

6 months after his 11th birthday Teddy asked her when she was going to marry his “Dromeda.”

In the early days after the war, they’d slipped so easily into being a family that she never considered they needed the formal words. She and Andromeda found great emotional and physical comfort in one another. And even after all of the years since, the desire she felt for the older witch hadn’t waned in the slightest.

Full of 11 year old precociousness he said,

“You should ask her, my ‘Mione. You love each other more than any of my friend’s parents. And they are all married.”

And so that afternoon she had gone ring shopping. Her blonde companion long ago forgave her incredible right cross. At first there had been a tentative peace between the two surviving Black sisters, but with encouragement from Hermione, Draco and Teddy the family was once again united. And as cliche as it was, the brunette felt as though she needed his help to pick something adequate. Of course, she hadn’t actually. The ring had been in the second store they’d gone in. Hermione didn’t even look at the price, because nothing was too good for her lover. Their simple domesticity never included grand romantic gestures. Their love was displayed in well made cups of tea, clothes folded and put away, and swept floors.

But as always her young metamorphmagus was right. Andy deserved this. They deserved this.

She asked the love of her life to marry her as they laid in bed sweaty, spent, and without a stitch of clothing between them. The flush on the proud cheekbones only deepened as Hermione plainly stated that a love like theirs should be honored. The searing kiss and multiple climaxes were a clear and resounding yes.

What the young witch hadn’t calculated was the combined force of the Black sisters in wedding planning mode. It didn’t seem to matter that it was going to be an intimate ceremony. Each and every detail was fussed over. Hermione didn’t complain. She watched with deep fondness as the women bonded over something that should have united them years before. That realization was one of the rare moments that she felt the years between herself and the object of her affection. In the course of the war, she had grown up so quickly that falling into the bed of a middle aged witch hadn’t seemed odd. And with the death of her parents, any lingering comparisons were never spoken of. 

Instead they shared a great love of learning and cooking. They played in the grass with Teddy, then taught him how to ride a broom when he was big enough. While Hermione taught him letters and colors, Andromeda showed him basic wand movements. They spent their nights reading until one or the other gave into the mounting tension and climbed into a waiting lap. For hours they would explore and exploit each other’s bodies, at times not ceasing until the sun was once again in the sky.

And so Hermione stood in a wind swept white dress staring at the most beautiful woman she had ever met. The long flowing curls begged for the young witch to bury her face while caressing the soft neck. And the ever expressive dark eyes sparkled with amusement and joy. Andromeda had always seen right through her. The look both recognized and dismissed her nerves as if to say “You’ve been mine for so long. You could not possibly be worried about this.”

A small hand tugging her forward finally forced her into motion. Teddy led her down the aisle smiling broadly at the gathered crowd. All of the people they loved came together to celebrate them. She never could have imagined a wedding where Mr. Weasley and Mr. Malfoy shook hands and exchanged genuine pleasantries. Or where Narcissa Malfoy accepted a handkerchief Mrs. Weasly offered when she began to cry at the sight of her older sister marrying the love of her life. Others would have to tell her later about such momentous occurrences as she didn’t even notice them.

For all of her practicality, at her own wedding Hermione Granger was a cliche. She could not tear her eyes away from the witch waiting patiently for her at the altar. The easy smile and waiting outstretched hand offered everything that she had ever wanted and much more. A lone tear ran down her face as Teddy placed their hands together intertwining their fingers, thus beginning the first part of their bonding.

A joyful celebration followed the binding of their souls. It was at the party where Narcissa cleverly slipped potions in both of their drinks. And as a result a few weeks later, Hermione was suspiciously nauseous every morning. Her annoyance at the blonde’s actions were quickly surpassed by the excitement of having a child with her wife. Fortunately for the youngest Black sister, the pregnancy was an easy one. The mediwitches were pleased with the progress of both mother and baby. Once they learned it was a girl, Draco and Teddy took up the task of preparing nurseries at the three homes they were most likely to frequent. 

Hermione taught until the day she gave birth, as her daughter decided to arrive a few weeks early. With the first pangs her wife escorted her to their home where a midwife would be arriving momentarily.

Until the crying bundle was laid in her arms, Hermione did not truly believe that she could have such a beautiful life filled with such incredible love. When her wife whispered in an emotionally constrained voice,

“Welcome home, Alya. We are so glad to meet you,”

Hermione knew that everything they had been through, every battle they fought, was so that this precious and innocent life might know a better world than the one she and her wife had been born into.


End file.
